Through Fields of Green: The Snare
"Your father has no idea you've come here, does he?" Serath questions her with a furrowed brow of doubt, mild amusement playing upon his features at the thought of such a concept. Such was unlike his friend, at least in the past year, to pull such a daring stunt.He breaks a mint leaf free of the underbrush and pops it between his teeth for chewing. “Well, no." Rowena confesses, her eyes shifting uneasily beneath the stare of his. Guilt, perhaps? She picks loosely at the cotton of her chemise with nervous fingers and rocks back and forth on her heels."I made the vassals promise not to tell, and packed some of my things with theirs." She pauses to lean against the strength of a river oak. "Of course I thought I saw Orell look from his window.But I'm plenty safe here. Mother and Father were too busy with their business to notice.I wonder if they've yet discovered my absence. Alieron, on the other hand..." She exhales softly and ceases her fidgeting long enough to take note that Serath's eyes have wandered away to the water that flows beneath his feet."Are you vexed? Should I not have come?"She worriedly asks. A small grin tugs laughter back into Serath's expression and he kicks a loosened part of the bank into the weak current. "Of course not; just surprised. Although, knowing you as I do, I'm not sure why."He rustles in the mint plant to seize another handful and offers it over his head to her with a slender arm. "Regardless, you really need say little more..." he trails off at that, before finishing the sentence off with a teasing, "My lady." Rowena's worry is replaced with a mild frown and she looks down from her precarious balance above him on the muddy slope. Gingerly, she curls her delicate toes over a surfaced root for stability and grips the roughened trunk bark with a hand."Well, I've more to say, so perhaps you should put your ears at ease and prepare." She retorts and wobbles into a hesitant reach for the mint. Serath watches her shadow falter over him and leans back to make her reach for the leaves easier."Well then take it at least. Though I warn you: If you were to fall on me, I may be forced to call for help, for Princes are not often waylaid by female bandits." It is a jest, clearly, but one that fails to bring a smile to Rowena's lips. "And if /Talus/ were to find out..." "If I were to fall on you, I'd ensure that you'd have no ability to do such a thing." She mutters and swings her hand in attempts to snatch the mint. Instead, she catches the humid air and nearly loses her balance.The momentum draws her dangerously forward, but a panicked kick of her other leg alters her course and she becomes unceremoniously wrapped around the tree. Rowena's lurch sends Serath into an instinctive spring upward, preparing to brace for impact. When no girl comes crashing into him, he opens his eyes and rewards himself with an amused gander at the sight of Rowena hugging the tree. "Lucky tree." He comments as a matter-of-fact in a dry tone of voice. "I'm jealous." Rowena's cheek presses into the bark, mouth screwed into an angry line as she interlocks her fingers tightly 'round the sturdiness. Her left big toe remains balanced upon the sideways root, but without a doubt it bears little weight. "You'll be wise to silence your tongue!" She complains, tone muffled by a sprig of baby greenery. "Now please." The horrific image of her chemise catching on the bark and tearing floods her mind, and from the corner of her eye she can see the rest of her clothes laying patiently atop the bank's peak. She should leave. This was wasted time. Overhead, a gray squawker blinks curiously at the melodramatic girl. As the tree limbs jostle in a sudden breeze, it attributes the disturbance to the teenagers and releases an indignant squawk before flapping away into the wood. “Very well..." Serath concedes and carefully climbs a step or two up the uneven clods to circle around the tree. When he's made it to the opposite side, he pats her hands."Let go and take hold of mine." Rowena cranes her neck to the side in efforts to peer around at him doubtfully. She succeeds in giving him one evil eye, deeming the disaster his fault. "Only if you swear to not let go." She asserts and begins to loosen her grip. "Do you not trust me?" he replies and smiles in reassurance, peeking around back at her. "Take hold and I'll help you down." His heels crunch over a few fallen sticks as he braces with a lean backwards. "I promise." Very slowly, Rowena releases her right hand from the death-fearing clutch and waves it blindly in his direction until he catches it firmly. Trusting he would support her weight for a moment, she lets her foot fall away from the root and digs her nails into the trunk while scrambling her feet for secure ground. Serath holds tight until he feels her settle on the other side. "From now on, I think it might be safer for both of us if I just let you pick your own mints." He teases, sauntering around the tree, keeping her hand in his until he's certain she'll not stumble again. "Perhaps I'll keep safe distance." Rowena shoots back, though the hint of a smile creeps into the scrunch of her nose. Tentatively, she tiptoes around on the slick surface and lets her bare toes sink into the mud for traction. Her slim hands brush her chemise clean then sweep back her hair in a girlish gesture that she'd recently acquired. "Now, as I had intended to say-" "Shall we test the waters?" Serath interrupts with a hopeful look in his striking eyes, backing his way boldly down the steep slope to the stream. The weeds cling in earnest to his breeches, only to crush beneath his heel. "Wha?" Rowena blinks her stare away from the weeds and to his earnest face with a partially dazed expression."No... No, I don't think so." She stammers and folds her arms over her chest, hands hooking over her shoulders. "I... momma says I'm forbidden to do such things from now on," She blurts forth and starts to gingerly pick her way down the bank towards a fallen log. Serath's foot splashes down into the water, braced on river stones to keep his balance while he works to shed his under tunic. "Your mother never stopped you before..." He reminds from behind a muffling layer of cotton. "...and if the Prince of the Blood is permitted to do it, then why not a lady of Light's Reach? But, if you truly don't wish to join me..." He wrestles the garment over the top of his head and tosses it to join the others on a bed of grass. Rowena's gaze is captured for a moment. Her hands feel for the mossy log, guided only by blind groping. But as he turns her way again, she drops her head with an innocent blush and climbs awkwardly onto the log. "Well, I do, but... well I can't." Serath wades further into the water, letting the chilly temperature and shade above cool the sun's wrath. With exaggerated strides, he sloshes closer to her perch, tilting his head curiously to her rosy flush. "You're keeping something from me." He says with a slightly injured tone. "I'm not!" Rowena insists, watching his approach with a wary gut. If he pulled her in. She scoots further onto the log, keeping well balanced. "Mama says that a lady my age shouldn't do such things anymore. 'tis indecent," Her voice drops to a low mutter, clearly unhappy with the verdict. "Last year was different.I'm older now and..." "Hardly." Serath refutes with a kind smile and kicks up a light spray of water to her feet while leaning forward to grasp the log. "Different, /indeed/." His playful smile is met with a more somber, almost disappointed pout from Rowena. Her silence brings a concerned frown to his lips. "What then?" Not answering, Rowena scoots around to turn her back and swings her feet loosely through the air. A bit of river grass tickles her toes in the act, the blades whispering to one another. She dips her chin to rest upon her chest and sniffs back a burning sensation in her nose. "Rowena... have I upset you?" A bewildered Prince asks from the other end of the log, still standing knee-deep in the flowing water. He tugs a bit from underneath, testing the steadiness of the dead wood before clambering up to join Rowena. "I'm sorry. You don't have to, if you don't want to..." “They're sending me away!" Rowena snaps, lifting her chin to cast him a mournful look over her slumped shoulder. The little Mikin fury she possessed burned intensely in the depths of her moistened eyes. "Poppa says that as penance for my wickedness, I'm to cure such for the rest of my days! They're sending me to live with a commoner to learn more about... about plants. But I don't want to be around illness! Now that I'm of age, they say I must adhere to my calling..." She trails off and her chin trembles, fury diminishing into a frightened cower of a child. Serath gapes in wonderment, perhaps for more reasons than one. "You? You who insisted that flowers are more fun than a footrace? Your heart is against that of a healer's fate?" His knees hug the log, bringing him into a better balance so he may sit alongside the teary-eyed girl of thirteen. Rowena nods and swipes her wrist angrily across her nose while glaring into the water. "I don't want to leave. I don't want to live with someone else. Why can't I just learn to paint and ride horses like other girls? I can keep my garments clean without being threatened into doing so! I can!" Rolling her wrist over, she blots her eyes with her cotton sleeve, shoving away a flattened curl from her forehead. "I'm certain their true intent is not to punish you." Serath notes softly and reaches out to catch her wrist gently in his hand before she rubs her eyes raw. "But to give you knowledge. Knowledge to follow your heart with, Rowena." Potential swim forgotten, he returns her hand to her knee and peers intently at her cheek's scarlet acquisition. "There's something else, isn't there?" Denial. Hardening her expression with it, Rowena squares her shoulders and stares with forlorn eyes at her wrist where his fingers had touched her."No." At least not that I'm going to tell you, her conscience whispers. “I just don't want to be sent to live with a strange woman in a house of... herbs." Her words linger in a followed silence as the trees above whisper doubts of her credibility. The faintest smell of wildflowers and mint waft to their teenage noses. Serath isn't so easily convinced and continues his relentless stare through icy blue eyes. "That such a small peril has upset you so greatly is something that I just can't comprehend." He tugs back a lock of hair behind his ear and leans to give her shoulder a bold nudge with his own. "You never get upset, Rowena. Never. So, at least... help me to understand?" “What is it you wish for me to confess?" Rowena retorts in a burst of sudden loudness. She jerks herself around to face him nose-to-nose, and in the process nearly topples from the log. In reaction to her loss of balance, the girl snatches her friend's bare shoulder in both hands, feet flailing in the air. Serath's brows leap in surprise and confusion, his hands prying hers away and holding them steady lest they both fall into the water. "Be calm for once this day!" He exclaims in a soft chuckle and reaches to flick an unruly curl from her eyes. "So... what is it that has upset the great Rowena Mikin? By the will of the Light, I dare you to tell me before..." The light-hearted tone falls silent and his gaze intensifies over hers, brow wrinkled with concern. "Before you leave this place." he whispers. Rowena freezes, hands caught up in his, proper clothes far from reach on the grassy bank, and unable to free her eyes from his domineering stare. He dared her? So be it. Firming her spine, Rowena adopts a strong-willed loft of her chin, and then pecks swiftly forward to land a kiss on his cheek. Oh, the shame! She makes haste to scramble out of reach before he can react. For once, Serath is at a loss for words over what to say in reply to such an answer. Merely, as the gray squawker that once watched the two now begins to sing, the Prince of the Blood can only sit in wonder as he watches Rowena's hasty retreat, a tender smile resting firmly upon his youthful features. "Different indeed..." he whispers to himself, before glancing back upon the tree that the young Lady Mikin was hugging only minutes ago. "Now who's jealous?" he asks of it, before taking flight after Rowena, following in her wake across fields they once ran across... Category:Chiaroscuro Stories